


History

by unlikelyflowerdefendor



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, One Shot, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Past Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 09:44:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8974681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unlikelyflowerdefendor/pseuds/unlikelyflowerdefendor
Summary: “Chara wasn’t really the greatest person,”





	

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble for my take on Chara Dreemurr.

At times, you still feel it.

A ghost - hah - of organs… of a warm, beating heart in your chest hammering away, drowning in an incomprehensible, messy meld of feeling. Goosebumps, hot white anger, hands twitching wildly- for they were empty of someone’s neck.  
Stomach, throat, everything- on fire. Unbearable, scorching, _screaming_ for healing, for peace, for help. 

But nobody came.

The thought of having no control over your own body’s functions like that disgusted you to the core. It was cruel. It was wrong. How could every human on earth handle that implication? They were subject to the world, trapped in a cage of slowly decaying meat and bone.  
They had no more value than a puppet.  
And thus, they were treated as such.

As were you.  
By everyone you had ever known, you were little more than a vessel. For words, for emotions… and for weapons. It was of little issue- you had accepted your role long ago.  
Of course, there were a few kind hands here and there… guiding eyes full of wisdom smiling down at you; _But they never lasted._  
You did, though. Longer than you had ever dreamed.  
For a time, you were treated - to your surprise - like something that was alive. Like a person. Like a sibling.  
Like a friend.  
Given all of the comforts you assumed only those consumed with greed could ever achieve… and here they were, these people consumed in kindness, handing it all to you as if it were nothing.  
You presumed it to be payment for what was to come.  
You had decided to dedicate yourself to them. To live for the sake of keeping your new owners safe and happy. Unlike your old ones, they were fair - they understood the system of equivalent exchange.  
Claiming the title of an Angel, of a savior, you preserved this lowly little cage for their sake - for _his_ sake.  
It went by far too fast - two years filled to the brim with more than you ever could have asked for. Pure, warm, wonderful _love_. That life was never meant to be. Not for you.  
And thus, the day once came…  
Where you would pay it all back.  
Suffering, betrayal, regret, and enough pain to take up all that you had been without these past two years… and eventually, darkness.

You were left to rot in the ground for a time.  
Decades, centuries, millennia; it all blended together, now, amongst the feeling of dirt in your rotten lungs, roots hugging your bones, and the occasional tickle of an old rain. The only way to sense anything new was the feeling of weight over your grave.

You had seen sunlight far more times than you’d care to mention. Pulled out of the ground with desperate vines, a familiar presence, and an echoing wail. You recalled the light of the stars far above, and tears gently dropping on your withered spine, spilling over to water the uprooted flowers, glittering on the petals.

You would never admit the peace that it brought you to be embraced by your brother once more.  
As much guilt as there was in those tears, there was anger, too; Burning hot as a fire, willing to engulf the entire world, if only for your sake.  
But more than anything, there was longing.  
Apologies, sobs of their name, fraught tales of long-gone memories… as if it would bring them back. He sounded like a broken record; looping, pathetic…  
And still, just as ever, a crybaby.

At times, you wished nothing more than to come back, if only to put him at peace. To give him the death that you were never meant to have. Quick, easy, and final.  
You had felt his presence vanish from this world far too many times on end. Felt him slowly wither over your body, to come back good as new.  
Watched grief turn to bitterness.  
Disbelief to depression.  
Desperation to _vengeance_.

 

His own mother was the first one he had slain.  
Right across their flowerbed her dust had scattered, shocked screams still ringing through the room.  
You were forced to watch as his shame morphed into boredom; As shock delved deep into luxurious _pleasure_.  
As he copied your smile.  
As he hung on to your image - to your hatred - in everything that he did.

As he mistook Frisk for YOU- killing them, manipulating them, _torturing_ them- all because he wanted you back. Because he thought hatred and murder, the things you had _died_ feeling, were the solution.

After all this time, he still thought you were right.  
He still looked up to you like you were perfect, like he could fix you, like _you_ could fix _him_ -  
As if _he_ was the one that had done wrong.

Even after being blinded by his stunning multicolored power, even after clinging to the feeling of his warmth through Frisk’s chest, his fur pressed against their cheek…

Even after all the time you ever could have asked for to say goodbye to the underground…

Even after…

_“Chara wasn’t really the greatest person,”_

It wasn’t a lie. But to hear that from _his_ lips… to see him look at Frisk in that way....  
You almost doubted whether it had all been worth it; dedicating your petty little existence to him.

Frisk clenches their hands.  
You can taste bitter rage on their tongue.

It takes everything in you to stop their fists from colliding with his jaw.


End file.
